


Murder Song

by VerdantMoth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Regret, Reincarnation, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 06:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: She didn’t mean to end up here again. When the veil spit her out, she had every intention of finding a new destiny for herself. No desire to right her wrongs or make apologies, because the past is so far gone, but she had every intention of leading her life simplistically. She wanted to enjoy it the way she never could that first time.





	Murder Song

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Aurora's "Murder Song."

_ Five, four, three, two, one _

_ Five, four, three, two, one _

Her breath picks up to match her heartbeat; or maybe her heartbeat slows down to match. She can no longer tell.  In fact, she is no longer sure if she is actually breathing, if she actually has a heartbeat, or if her mind is simply trying to find comfort in the steady county it’s looping. She has been here, once before, in this grey area where nothing happens.

Perhaps she has been here twice. She remembers a poisoned skein and brother’s blade. Does it count, if one doesn’t die, when one try failed? No, she decides; she never did lose track of her skin, that first attempt.

She didn’t mean to end up here again. When the veil spit her out, she had every intention of finding a new destiny for herself. No desire to right her wrongs or make apologies, because the past is so far gone, but she had every intention of leading her life simplistically. She wanted to enjoy it the way she never could that first time.

Their happiness stirred a rage in her she’d long thought snuffed out.

_ He holds the gun against my head _

_ I close my eyes and bang I am dead _

_ I know he knows that he’s killing me for mercy _

In some ways, this murder was easier than before. Quicker, definitely, than the closing of her throat. Stung less than the bleeding from her chest. The suddenness of it had certainly startled her, but she hadn’t felt anything. Part of her wonders if it was all some new torture thought up by the keepers of the veil. If they are punishing her, still, for crimes history has almost forgotten.

But no. While she can feel no warmth in her skin, no rise in her breast, she can almost feel the sticky liquid at her temple, the edges of the hard dirt and twigs she lands against. Were her eyes closed when the gun went off? Or are the orange flashes exploding across her vision memories? Does she remember which one pulled the trigger?

Does it matter?

_ Oh, he did it all to spare me from the awful things in life that comes _

_ And he cries and cries _

_ I know he knows that he’s killing me for mercy _

If she knew, she might hate. She’s so tired of hating, so exhausted by the rage that wants to consume her again. She bites her teeth against the algae-taste of the veil calling her home. She wants to linger, just a moment more. Because this life had been good to her. She spent her days roaming a large manor, picking the fruit of trees magically enchanted, and laying between day and night in human form.

What had they seen in her, in those final days? She’d thought the veil had wiped the past from them, but she’d always known the night was strong; his powers, even untamed and immature, had terrified her.

He could see into her though. She’d felt it some nights, when his grip was too tight on her waist, when his teeth sunk into her shoulder and he’d fought to keep her from the day.

At first, she’d thought maybe he was jealous. After all, he’d had the day for so short a time before she’d arrived. She’d seen the hunger in his eyes, all those years ago. He’d finally had his chance and she’d arrived. But there was a hunger in him too, for the night in her.

Sometimes, when his teeth drew blood, it was as if he was trying to suck the dark out of her.

He couldn’t; and she’d traced the tears off his cheek with her tongue, when she’d tried to dig her nails into his heart. It wasn’t pity or hate she’d seen, but a regret that extended across many lives.

A regret, she decides, she will use to cut the cords of fate and destiny and whatever forces want to control her, the next time she slips away from the veil’s chains.

_ He holds my body in his arms _

_ He didn't mean to do no harm _

_ And he cries and cries _

The darkness does not hold her. She isn’t sure how she’s aware of it, but despite the absence of feeling in her stone-body, she can still sense strong arms cradling her. She still feels the salt drip down his nose. It’s unpleasant, the way it catches on her lips, but she doesn’t mind.

He wails, rocks her in his arms, and screams her name. Over and over, begging the old gods for a little more time, another chance.

She begs them for a little breath, so she can explain. The old gods do not care for them anymore, if they cannot flay the skin from their backs.

_ He did it all to spare me from the awful things in life that come _

_ And he cries and cries _

They bury her beneath the orange tree, because it is her favorite. The night comes sometimes, to weep over her grave. He tells her of the hate he saw in her eyes, of the way she looked at the day sometimes. He says it was like she wasn’t there, but rather the her that existed before stepped in.

She doesn’t want to believe him, but it explains the strange haze-days she had, where she floated inside her brain. Everything was muted and soft in the haze, so she never questioned it.

She doesn’t think they meant to shoot her, this time, but her hands and arms bored the wounds of a man desperate to defend himself.

_ The gun is gone _

_ And so am I _

_ And here I go _

The day disposes of the gun. She doesn’t know how. She knows he does it because the night cannot bear to have the metal against his skin.

She leaves them shortly after. Perhaps it is because there is nothing physical tying her to this place.

Perhaps it is so she can burn the veil down.

_ Five, four, three, two, one _

_ Five, four, three, two, one _

She is going to return. She is going to find them again, the day and the night that loved her, hated her. She is going to cushion herself between them and together they will rewrite everything the old gods thought they could predict.

She is going to let them know, she understands, why it had to happen. She still had threads of destiny woven around her heart.

She wants them to know, they cut them.

She needs them to know she loves them and she forgives them.

 


End file.
